


Relax, Take It Easy

by fallofthereichenbach



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, University AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-11
Updated: 2015-10-04
Packaged: 2018-04-08 20:58:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 17,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4320456
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallofthereichenbach/pseuds/fallofthereichenbach
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel is in his first year of university. All is going well - except some guy he used to know is fast becoming obsessed with him.</p>
<p>Then he meets Dean Winchester, and a fake relationship is played out between the two of them, to protect Castiel from the annoying Metatron.</p>
<p>But are all the feelings between them just an act?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> First things first, I do 100% not ship Castiel x Metatron. I hate Metatron. This will probably show a lot in my work. Sorry!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this xxx

Castiel sat at the bar, chin resting on hand, waiting for his sister. Anna was always late. As was basically everyone else in his family. Maybe that was why he loved to be early for everything, or at least whenever possible.

He checked his watch. She was supposed to be there 10 minutes ago. Really Anna, he thought - you insist that we meet at some crowded bar (which you know I don't like) and then you don't evens how up?

He hadn't seen his younger sister (stepsister, as she liked to remind him whenever they got in a fight) in a few months, ever since he had left home. Anna was only six months younger than him, and considering going to the same university, which is why a trip had been organised for her to visit him.

He sipped at his lemonade. He hardly ever drank much - coming from a strict (Christian) family will do that to you. If he was out with friends, he might have the odd beer. But he didn't like the feeling of blankness and fuzziness that alcohol gave him. Castiel liked being in control. 

Castiel looked up from his glass when he saw the red-headed figure of his sister walk through the door. He knew it was her before his eyes had even focused properly; she had a strange sense around her, that could either draw people to her, or repel them far, far away. He noticed the way that the men (and women) of the bar seemed to stare at her as one, and protectively stood up to greet her with a hug. 

She may only be six months younger than him, and be a few inches taller, but she had big, wide eyes and occasionally a look of innocence that made Castiel keen to protect her.

"Hey Anna, how's it going?"

"Pretty good, I guess! How's uni?"

"Tiring. Do you want a lemonade?"

"Let me guess, Dad texted you not to let me drink alcohol while I'm here?" she smirked. Castiel rolled his eyes and feigned innocence. He waved to the bartender for another lemonade.

They chatted for a reasonable amount of time, talking about Anna's new job and Castiel's latest Business lecture. 

Then Anna's eyes focused on something behind Castiel, and she leaned forward excitedly.

"Is that who I think it is? Does he go here now?" She asked, and Castiel felt his stomach drop a few notches. He had hoped that they would get through the evening at least without something like this happening.

Sure enough, he turned round and his gaze was immediately drawn to the man a few metres away from them, sitting with some friends.

His name was Metatron, and he was well known to the Novak siblings.

He had been in Castiel's year at school, and had developed some strange obsession with making his life as miserable as possible. Teasing, laughing at him, annoying him generally; all done with some alien assurance that Castiel was enjoying it too. Which of course he wasn't.

The odd thing was that a lot of people didn't see how it was incredibly annoying. In fact, a large amount of them (Anna included), thought that they would make a very good couple.

Castiel shouldn't have been surprised that Metatron had chosen to go to the same university as him, or that Anna continued to think it was cute.

"Do you want to go say hi? I think we should go say hi!"

"No!" 

"Come on, Cassy, he's really not as bad as you keep insisting! I know a lot of girls my age who would be drooling over him!"

"Clearly they've never met him."

"Come on, you need to lighten up!"

And, apparently deaf to Castiel's protests, Anna proceeded to walk straight over to the table that Metatron was sitting at, and started to talking to him and his friends.

Castiel turned back to the bar, draining his glass of lemonade for something to do. He wanted to walk right out of the bar, but part of him still clung to the thin hope that Anna would come back alone, so they could continue talking about random stuff.

Alas, before he could make his mind up, a booming voice came from behind him.

"Well well well! If it isn't Asstiel!"

Sighing silently, Castiel span back round on his seat to reluctantly face the tall figure of Metatron. He had brown-blonde hair, sticking up in different directions, small grey eyes, and a moustache and beard were starting to grow on his face. He wore a light blue shirt underneath a knitted grey cardigan (not the most stylish of choices - but then, Castiel was wearing a trenchcoat).

"Hello, Metatron," he said, through gritted teeth.

"How's the Business studying going along?"

"It's-"

"Boring, I imagine? ...Hey, do you want me to get you something a little stronger than lemonade? You look like you could use some fun!"

"Um, no thanks. I should probably go find my sister, I said I'd show her around-"

"What, don't you want to spend time with me?" Metatron pretended to dramatically clutch his heart, thinking himself to be the height of wit and hilarity. No, Castiel thought, I do not want to spend time with you!

"But I am funny and loveable!" Continued Metatron, giving what he obviously thought was an endearing smile. Instead, it came out as a constipated grimace.

"Riiiiiiiight, forgive me if I'm not seeing that," muttered Castiel, looking over to Metatron's shoulder to see if he could spot Anna. No such luck - apparently she had some sort of magic that allowed her to disappear at inconvenient times. Either that or she was in some bathroom making out with one of Metatron's friends.

"Oh, Asstiel, aren't you hilarious!" Said Metatron, chuckling sarcastically.

Then he did something rather worrying.

He looked deep into Castiel's eyes, and started to lean forward. Instinctively, Castiel moved back, until he was near falling off his chair. Metatron's hand grazed his thigh, and Castiel tried uncomfortably to move even further. Metatron then grabbed some peanuts from the bowl on the bar just behind Castiel, and withdrew to a more comfortable space. He continued the eye contact, though.

It was very clear that Metatron thought he was so amazing at seduction.

But Castiel was just incredibly uncomfortable.

 

To Castiel's horror, Metatron started to move forward again, probably with less innocent intentions this time. But before he could do anything else, a hand was grabbing Metatron's shoulder and pulling him back.

The hand belonged to a blonde man who was even taller than Metatron (why was everyone taller than Castiel! He was of average height, surely this wasn't fair!). The Blonde Man was incredibly attractive, and Castiel had never seen him before in his life.

Metatron looked pissed off.

"Mate, what are you doing?" He basically snarled, trying to sound 'tough'.

"I'd be very happy to ask you the same question," said Blonde Man, in a deep, calm voice that sent the tiniest of shivers down Castiel's spine.

"I'm just here, having a nice chat with my... friend, Castiel," glared Metatron. Blonde Man's eyes flickered over to Castiel, and the two of them shared a look.

"Well, unfortunately for you, Castiel here is not interested."

"Oh yeah?" Sneered Metatron, "And who are you to speak for him?"

"I'm... his boyfriend."

Metatron took a second to process the news, before he turned to look at Castiel, who blushed hard. Blonde Man winked at him behind Metatron, and he blushed even harder.

"Assti- ... Castiel, is this true?"

"Uh... Yeah, this is my boyfriend..." Castiel looked at Blonde Man, who seemed to be mouthing his name, which sounded something like 'Bean'. After an awkward couple of seconds, he gave up trying to understand. "Yeah, we're dating."

"So, goodbye, and please leave my boyfriend alone in the future. I'm sure you wouldn't enjoy any kind of... confrontation with me," said Blonde Man, with a cold, humourless smirk on his face.

This was finally enough for Metatron to flounce off; not just to his table, but out of the bar altogether.

Castiel let out a heavy breath that he didn't know he'd been holding in.

"Thanks."

"No problem, Castiel."

"Really, thank you. He's been hassling me since forever."

"Hey, it was my pleasure, pretending to be your boyfriend for a little bit," winked Blonde Man.

"So who are you? Just because I'm going to have to tell my sister about this after she practically shoved him at me, and I'd rather not have to refer to you as 'Blonde Man'."

"The name's Man, Blonde Man."

"I think Man Blonde would have worked better for that."

"Yeah... Anyway I'm Dean Winchester."

"Hi Dean Winchester, I'm Castiel Novak... Can I buy you a drink, to say thank you?"

Dean winced.

"That's probably not a good idea, Castiel."

"Why not?" Asked Castiel, feeling his stomach lurch. What had he said wrong?

Noticing the way Castiel's face had fallen, Dean hurried to explain.

"I work here, and I just finished my shift. I feel like if I see another pint of beer, I might throw up without even drinking it first. And I don't usually say no to drinks."

"Oh."

"But... Hey, if you were to maybe give me your number, we could meet up some other place, without alcohol and creepy-ass people trying to chat you up."

"I'd like that," said Castiel, and after Dean handed him a napkin and a pen, wrote his number down.

"Okay. See you around, Cas," grinned Dean, and strolled out of the bar.

Huh, thought Castiel.

Maybe coming here had been a good idea after all.


	2. Operation: The Rose Has Thorns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Two giant dorks are texting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoy this, love you all xxx

Dean wasn't entirely sure what had convinced him to help the random stranger at the bar.

Yeah, he was cute, with his shock of dark hair and proud features, but surely pretending to be dating him was a little far to go just because of physical appearance?

No, it was the way his eyes had looked over the shoulder of the man leaning over him. Desperately searching for something, for someone. Clear, beautiful, blue eyes that were bright with fear and uncomfortableness.

Before Dean had seen the eyes, he had just thought that the guy was chatting Castiel up normally. It happened a lot in bars like this, particularly in the evenings. Dean would know; often he's either on the receiving end of the longing looks, or he's the one starting the flirting.

But this was different. And so he rushed to help in any way he could. He charged over with no plan or idea of what to do, just a sense that he had to do something. Pretending to be Castiel's boyfriend was a thought that popped into Dean's head in a cartoonish lightbulb moment. If he was being honest with himself, the fact that he had been able to make the guy blush felt pretty good.

Then the creepy man left the bar completely, and with him went the hunch of Castiel's shoulders and his tensed breathing.

So all in all not a bad night. His shift went reasonably well, and he got the number of an attractive guy at the end of it.

Which reminded Dean: he should probably check up with Castiel, make sure Creepy McCreeperson wasn't giving him trouble. Dean knew there was some kind of three-day rule before texting someone you were interested in. But that wasn't the way he generally worked - if he liked the person, what was the point in waiting? Life's too short.

... Screw it, he thought. Dean picked up his phone and started texting.

"Hello, Castiel Novak." -Dean

"Hello, Dean Winchester." -Castiel

"Just wanted to make sure that guy from last night wasn't still hassling you." -Dean

"Metatron? No, I think he's terrified of my scary boyfriend." -Castiel

"So I'm your scary boyfriend now? I guess it's better than other stuff I've been called." -Dean

"Hey, you were the one who initiated the whole we-are-dating thing!" -Castiel

"And I wouldn't change it for the world, my dear Cas." -Dean

"Ha ha ha. Can you hear the sarcasm?" -Castiel

"As clear as a summer's day. Anyway I think we need a name for this whole plan, rather than The We-Are-Dating Thing. I was thinking 'Operation: The Rose Has Thorns.'" -Dean

"What do you mean?" -Castiel

"Well, I mean, Metadouche probably isn't going to drop this any time soon, is he? If you're going to be seeing him around a lot and your amazing boyfriend has just disappeared, he might get suspicious." -Dean

"So what are you suggesting?" -Castiel

"I am suggesting, Castiel dear, that it could be considered a good idea for us to appear to be dating, to avoid any unwanted attention from Mr Metacrap." -Dean

"And in English?" -Castiel

"Will you be my fake-boyfriend so you don't have some creep trying to feel you up?" -Dean

"You needed an excuse to be my fake-boyfriend, didn't you?" -Castiel

"Aw, is that a yes?" -Dean

"Yes." -Castiel

"Great! It's a fake-date!" -Dean

...

"I still think 'Operation: The Rose Has Thorns' is an awesome name." -Dean

...

"I don't know whether you are ignoring me or whether you are merely contemplating the kickass name of our plan, so I'll leave you in peace, oh darling fake-boyfriend." -Dean


	3. A Tale of Two Dorks Talking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (See chapter title)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Can you spot the Sherlock reference?)
> 
> Thank you so much to all the people who have been commenting, leaving kudos, bookmarking and just reading this! xxx
> 
>  
> 
> (Also, it's surprisingly difficult to keep coming up with different variations of 'Metatron' that aren't too rude)

"I've got the day off today - what are you up to?" -Dean

"Studying." -Castiel

"Oh how one word can show so much woe!" -Dean

"If you have an alternative option to me working hard to get through university I would be happy to hear it?" -Castiel

"Operation: The Rose Has Thorns." -Dean

"So we're sticking with that name then." -Castiel

"Of course. You are the rose, I am the thorn, and Meta-idiot is the douche who's going to have cut fingers." -Dean

"I thought we were both the rose, but our relationship was the thorn that's going to destroy Metapig?" -Castiel

"Damnit Cas! Look, my original point before you interrupted me was that we should probably discuss Operation: TRHT." -Dean

"I thought that was what we are doing?" -Castiel

"No, we should talk about it! Come up with a battle plan." -Dean

"After all, all's fair in love and war." -Castiel

"Exactly. So, are you okay for me to come round to you in a few minutes?" -Dean

"Hold up, do you even know where I live?" -Castiel

"No." -Dean

"Dorm 221, Baker block. Our corridor is the one that has an infestation of rats and a weird smell to it. You can't miss it." -Castiel

"I'm starting to regret suggesting meeting up at your place." -Dean

"That's university life for you. Don't worry, you get used to it." -Castiel

"Riiiiight... I'll be there in roughly ten minutes." -Dean

 

Eight minutes later, Dean was knocking at the door and Castiel was opening it.

To be honest, Dean had been kinda scared about seeing Cas again. He had joked about being his fake-boyfriend, yes, but what if it was expected for him to carry on while they were actually face-to-face? What if it was awkward and uncomfortable? What if-?

When Cas opened the door, though, Dean's thoughts seemed to calm almost instantly. The guy seemed genuinely pleased to see him; but it was a casual kind of happiness - he had no expectations other than a friendly conversation.

Castiel was surprised to find that he actually wasn't too worried about Dean coming over. It had been nice, texting him about Operation: TRHT. Why should being face-to-face make it any different?

Castiel sat on his bed, and Dean sat down on the chair next to it. It felt kind of odd - they had only met a few days before, after all. Dean was the first to break the silence.

"Your corridor doesn't actually smell that bad," he blurted out, and instantly cringed. What was with him today? He forced himself to relax.

"Oh. That's because of a kind of tradition that we have around here. Basically, whenever anyone has visitors or guests or whatever, it's their duty to run up and down the hall, spraying a can of air freshener as they go."

"Oh my God... That's why it smelt of water lilies and mountain breeze!" Laughed Dean.

"Yep."

"Anyway, I am honoured to be considered a good enough guest for the air freshener ritual."

"You should be. When my sister came down here, I didn't bother."

"You've got a sister?"

"A younger step-sister (she's the one who tried to force Metatron onto me) and two older brothers," nodded Castiel.

"Wait, she tried to force Metadick on you?"

"Well, I mean... she ships us. She thinks it's all adorable, the way he is a douche to me. Apparently that means he secretly cares about me, and I should be flattered."

"Wow, that must suck."

"Yep. Well, I mean it's not really Anna's fault; she just wants people to be all lovey-dovey and happy."

"Maybe you should tell her that you already have a boyfriend. Just to get her off your case."

"Maybe. Anyway, what about you? What's your family like?"

Dean tried to hide his reluctance to speak about his family. It was no big deal, he reminded himself - no family is perfect.

"Uh, well, I have a younger brother, called Sammy. Sam."

"Oh that's cool... What about your parents?" Asked Castiel. He sensed that Dean was hiding something. Part of him whispered that he shouldn't be prying, and another part of him whispered for the other part to shut up.

"My mum died when I was 4, and Sam was 6 months old."

Castiel didn't say anything, just reached out a hand and placed it on Dean's shoulder for a second.

"My dad was an alcoholic..." Dean continued, staring into space.

"Was?" prompted Castiel quietly.

"Was... Is... I don't know. We haven't seen him in three years. I took Sammy off to our uncle Bobby's the day I turned 17. Dad could be dead in a ditch for all I know, or care."

Dean stared at the wall in front of him, as though there was an invisible screen showing pictures and memories of his father from long ago. Castiel just thought he's sit there quietly. He didn't want to interrupt Dean, or make him come back to a harsh reality too quickly.

Eventually Dean spoke up.

"What's your family like, Cas?"

"Well, er, I used to live with my dad, Anna and my step-mum (her mum) before I came here. My two older brothers are 23 and 25, so they've left home. I don't see too much of my mum anymore; she divorced my dad about eight years ago, but I still get a card on my birthday... My family is kind of strict and religious, though Becky (my step-mum) isn't too bad... We still have to go to church every Sunday though."

"Wow. So is that why you're called 'Castiel'?"

"Yep. Though I got off very lucky in terms of names. My brothers are Gabriel - and (drumroll for possibly the worst name for a child in the history of ever) Lucifer!"

"Lucifer?"

"Lucifer."

"Oh God. Wait, I should probably rephrase that... I guess you're pretty lucky then, that Castiel can be shortened to Cas? Is that what your family call you?"

"Not really. It's either 'Castiel Novak' or 'Cassy'."

"Cassy! That's adorable!"

"I shouldn't have told you that, should I?"

"Probably not, Cassy."

"Please stop."

"Make me, Cassy."

"How would you like me to do that?" asked Castiel with a slight smirk, putting his head to one side and looking at Dean.

"A lot of ideas come to mind, but not many are appropriate considering we've only been fake-dating for three days."

"Aw, happy three-day-anniversary!"

"You too, Cassy."

"You're never gonna forget that, are you?"

"Nope!"


	4. Of Nerdiness and Books

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The one and only Charlie freaking Bradbury appears!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Really short chapter - sorry!!!
> 
> Thank you for reading this story so far, and to anyone who has been commenting and leaving kudos!
> 
> Also, shoutout to IceCream3131 and magicjuno for spotting my Sherlock reference in the last chapter!!

"I call the first meeting of the new book club to order!"

Castiel didn't really know why he was there. He had seen a sign-up sheet for the Book Club outside the library when he was going in to study, and thought it might be a fun way to meet new people. 

Which it was, he supposed. Though the new people were mainly either clique-ish hipsters who hated anyone who didn't understand their obscure references, or surprisingly unfriendly 'nerds' (Castiel couldn't think of any other word for them) who sat in a little huddle bitching about some bad movie adaptation of a book and glaring at everyone else in the group.

There was one girl, though - the one who organised the Book Club and who was now shouting at the people who were still talking - who actually seemed pretty cool. She had long, red hair and a friendly smile that seemed to rest on everyone simultaneously and individually like a literal ray of sunshine.

"Right, so as you may know, this is the New And Improved Book Club. I, as the leader, want no fighting, arguing or bullying to occur within this space."

"Sorry," interrupted a girl who 100% did not look sorry, "But who appointed you leader?"

"Considering I'm the one who made the sign-up sheets, put together a meeting schedule, talked the librarians into letting us meet here, organised a book list and made a blog section on the university web page, I don't really think I need appointing... Looks like you're stuck with me, bitches," the red-headed girl replied, talking quickly. She continued:

"Okay, now that that's settled, let's move onto rules. The first rule of Book Club is that you talk about Book Club. We want as many members as possible."

A few people (including Castiel) chuckled at her joke, and she smiled slightly and carried on with some other, more serious, rules.

"... And I guess that's it for rules. Unfortunately, we're coming close to being out of time. However there are still a few minutes left to sort out what we're going to be reading first!"

Some people started muttering their suggestions straight away, and others put their hands up into the air as if in class. The girl blushed a little.

"Sorry, I'm not taking suggestions at the moment. The first five books have already been picked out," she said regretfully, "But if you have anything that you are desperate for us all to read, feel free to write the title down and give it to me or one of the librarians!"

She rushed on,

"Anyway, this week's book shall be... Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone! I know a lot of you will have read it already, but it's a great book and, besides, we have to start somewhere!"

The meeting went on for a few minutes, and eventually the group dispersed and went their separate ways. However, the leader of the Club stayed in the library, talking to the girl who had interrupted her at the beginning.

Castiel decided to go over and introduce himself; after all, he needed as many friends as he could get.

The girls looked pretty busy - chatting and giggling and smiling, so he waited until the Interrupter (he hated not knowing anyone's names) went off to go do something.

"Uh, hey, I'm Castiel. I just wanted to let you know that actually this Book Club seems pretty cool."

"Thanks Castiel! By the way, I'm Charlie, Charlie Bradbury. I don't think I've seen you around before, are you new?"

"This is my first year."

"Ah, that would make sense!" Charlie's phone started buzzing in her pocket, "Oh, that's Dorothy. She wants to know if I'm coming out of the library any time soon, I'd better go."

"Dorothy?"

"The girl I was just talking to."

"Oh, the one who asked why you were in charge at the beginning? Do you guys know each other?"

"We only met today. But she's actually really nice, and she gave me her number, so..." Charlie winked at Castiel, who grinned back at her.

"Anyway, I'll head off then! It was nice meeting you, Castiel. Peace out, bitches!"

"You're only talking to me, so surely it should be 'peace out bitch' as I am a singular bitch rather than multiple bitches?"

"Nah, I'm addressing the whole room."

"Fair enough. Bye Charlie!"

"Farewell, brave Castiel, and may you be able to slay any dragons that should cross your path."

Charlie gave a deep bow, and left the library, leaving Castiel smiling and shaking his head.


	5. When Dean Met Charlie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie is the number 1 Destiel shipper. This is not just a fanfic thing; it is canonically proven!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who's on summer break? Me! 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you for leaving kudos, commenting, bookmarking and reading this story in general! You are all nearly as awesome as Charlie Bradbury!

Dean walked down the hallway of Cas' dorm block. He was slightly unsure of whether randomly showing up at his friend's room was a good idea, but to be fair, it was an emergency.

Stopping outside Cas' door, he heard... Laughter. The deep familiar chuckle that belonged to his friend, and someone else's. A girl's.

He soon found himself listening a few inches from the door. Who was Cas with? No that he minded. But if Operation: TRHT was off, he deserved to know why. 

After he couldn't make out any distinct conversation or names, he wondered whether he should go back and come back later. But he was Dean Winchester; unafraid and unembarrassed.

Screw it, he thought - I'm going in and if they're making out I'll just burn my eyes out and move on.

"Hey Cas, I just wondered- Hi," he said, pretending to be caught off guard by the girl sitting by Cas' desk. She had long red hair, and was smiling up at Dean. Thankfully, she wasn't making out with Cas.

Dean grinned briefly at the girl, and then looked at Cas with a silent question.

"Oh, Dean this is Charlie Bradbury - she runs the Book Club that I'm part of! Charlie, this is Dean, he's my... Friend."

Friend. Not off to a great start. Though, to be fair, they hadn't really discussed how they would introduce and refer to each other.

"It's nice to meet you Dean! ... Relax, I'm not going to get in the way of your whole fake-dating thing. I am taken (unfortunately for you, I'm sure)," she smirked, and winked playfully.

"Oh. Okay then."

Dean was vaguely confused. He didn't really care if Cas was dating someone, but the fact that he wasn't felt... nice? And Charlie seemed really nice.

"Lucky guy," said Dean jokingly, referring to whoever she was dating.

"Girl."

"Oh. Lucky girl."

Charlie smiled (so did Cas, but for once Dean wasn't looking at him).

After Cas and Charlie talked for roughly ten minutes about the book they were going to be reading next, Charlie stretched and started to stand up.

"Right, gentlemen, I'll be going then. I said I'd meet Dorothy for a Game Of Thrones marathon in her room," she said, wiggling her eyebrows. Cas shook his head fondly, and Dean laughed.

"Make responsible decisions. Don't do anything I wouldn't do!"

"Oh Dean, is there really much you wouldn't do?" She gave a pointed look at Cas, and both boys blushed ever-so-slightly (which was actually pretty out of character for them). Charlie grinned smugly.

"I'll leave you two lovebirds to it. Later!" 

She walked out of the door.

"Erm... Sorry about that..." Mumbled Cas from across the room.

"Sorry about what? She's awesome!" Dean said happily, trying to forget the awkwardness of her parting comments.

"Anyway, what did you come round for?"

"Oh yeah. Look, would you maybe happen to know any good books about law or business? It's just it's my little brother's birthday coming up, and he's gonna be 16 and starting to think about later life and stuff. He's always been interested in law and all that jazz, so..."

Cas started to power up his laptop, and while that was happening he searched through some of his cupboards, eventually coming up with a small piece of paper.

"This is a copy of my reading list for this year... Some of the books might be a bit difficult and boring, but I can do an internet search for the authors to see if they have something more interesting?"

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Cas sat at his computer, with Dean next to him, looking through lists and lists of books that might be good, for at least half an hour. Most of it was spent in near-silence, before Cas became the first one to speak again.

"Was it okay, me referring to you as a friend to Charlie?"

"Yeah, 'course!"

"It's just, she already knew about Operation: TRHT anyway, and I knew that she wouldn't tell anyone about it..."

"It's fine Cas, no worries. We hadn't even talked about stuff like that before, but you made the right call."

"Maybe we should have a system, where we get to know the person that we might want to tell first, and then make sure that they won't tell anyone."

"Or... Or we just don't tell people it's an act. We just let them believe it; we don't say anything specific so it's not a huge amount of lying. I just feel like, the less people who know the less chance this has of going wrong."

"Okay."

"Only if you're good with that too."

"Yeah!"

"Good. Remember, Cassy, relationships are all about trust and compromise and honesty and all that crap," joked Dean, bumping his shoulder against Cas'.

"I trust Charlie, though."

"Me too, definitely. I like it that she knows; she seems cool. Even if she's gonna make 100 jokes on average about it."

"Just 100? I think you're underestimating her there, Dean!"

"Maybe."

 

Dean stayed at Cas' room for another hour, talking about a lot of 'nothing much'.

He left with a list of birthday present possibilities for Sam clutched in his hand, and a smile on his face.


	6. One Text Is All It Takes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A quick chapter of texting, a phone call, and an unexpected meeting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, sorry! I love you all xxx

"Hey Cas, you awake?" -Dean

"No." -Castiel

"Okay, I'll stop texting you then." -Dean

"Dean. It's 1 am and my phone is on vibrate for some reason. What do you want?" -Castiel

"Nah, if you're sleeping buddy, I'll text you later!" -Dean

"I swear to God, if you don't tell me..." -Castiel

"You'll do what?" -Dean

"I'll murder you. Then I'll pull you out of hell or wherever you end up, so I can murder you again." -Castiel

"Woah there, someone clearly didn't get his eight hours beauty sleep!" -Dean

"No, I didn't, because you STARTED TEXTING ME AND WOKE ME UP." -Castiel

"Fair point." -Dean

"Good. Now that we've established that, why on earth are you texting me at one in the morning?" -Castiel

"Well, it's Sammy's birthday on Saturday, and I still have no idea what to get him!" -Dean

"Did you look at the list of books I gave you?" -Castiel

"Yeah, and they all look great. But how do I know if he'll definitely like them?" -Dean

"Dean, it will be fine. You'll realise exactly what book to buy, you'll get it, he'll love it, and I'll sleep." -Castiel

"If you're sure... Thanks Cas." -Dean

"You're welcome. Now goodnight." -Castiel

"Night!" -Dean

...

"But what if he doesn't like it?" -Dean

"DEAN IT'S THREE AM NOW, STOP TEXTIBG ME." -Castiel

"*Texting." -Dean

"For crying out loud man, it's three am, cut me some slack!" -Castiel

"'Man'?" -Dean

"To be fair, I'm half asleep and the only other names I could think of were unrepeatable." -Castiel

"Oooh harsh." -Dean

"Now please, for the love of all that is holy, STOP. TEXTING. ME." -Castiel

...

(Incoming call from: Dean. Time: 8 am)

...

"What?"

The sound of Cas' groggy voice still full of sleep made Dean smile despite himself.

"Good morning, Cassy!"

"Fuck off, Dean."

"Oooooooooooooooooh," mocked Dean, laughing, "You sound a little tired, Cas, maybe you should get more sleep."

"I hate you."

"But you never really answered me properly this morning!"

"Yes, because you woke me up at 1 in the morning, then 3 in the morning and now you're ringing me at 8 in the morning."

"Because I'm still worried!"

"Do I sound like I care?"

"You should do. Do you have a lecture this morning?"

"No. I've got one this afternoon, though."

"Okay, then we do have time to talk!"

Cas groaned, and started to get out of bed. "If you're going to start a really long talk, I'm gonna need some cereal."

"Ooh, that's a good idea!"

There was a knock at Cas' door. No... Surely not...?

 

He opened it, and sure enough, there stood Dean.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

"Wow is this a usual routine, you swearing in the morning?"

"I think it's mainly when I have to communicate with you that I swear."

"Okay then. So, I was promised cereal?"

 

Cas grudgingly made Dean a bowl of cereal too. (He was thankful that he had put on a shirt before opening the door, even if his hair was horrifically messed up) (Dean liked that Cas' hair was all fluffy and ruffled - it looked cute.)

"So. Why are you here?"

"Like I said, I'm worried about Sammy's birthday and what I'm going to get him."

"So you just ring and text me at random times in the morning and then invite yourself into my room?"

Dean ignored Cas' grumpy tone, but not the question. He scratched the back of his neck.

"Well... I couldn't sleep last night... And I was kind of overthinking a lot of stuff... So I wanted to talk to someone... To you?"

"Oh... Okay then," sighed Cas, "What's up?"

 

Dean explained then, how he hardly ever sees his brother any more. They lived in the same house, but Dean is always out at work (at his Uncle Bobby's garage) before Sam is awake, and often he gets back from his shift at the bar after Sam has gone to bed.

"And it sucks, Cas. It feels like, even when we're in the same room for once, he doesn't want to talk to me."

Cas was quiet for a minute, thinking it through.

"Dean, everyone goes through phases of withdrawing from their families at ages like this. I did, you probably did and now your brother is too. It's completely natural; though you're right, it sucks. But your brother still loves you."

"Woah Cassy, since when were you that wise?" Dean said, smiling at the floor. Cas knows there's something behind his words, something that he isn't mentioning. But he stays quiet about it.

 

They talked for a little while longer, before Cas stretched and mentioned his next lecture that he had to get to. 

Before Dean left, though, he lurched suddenly, wrapping his arms around Cas in a quick, grateful hug. Then he walked straight on out of the door.


	7. Celebrating Valentine's Day? With An Actual Person? What The F*ck?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Celebrating Valentine's day? With an actual person? What the fuck? (By Fall Out Boy)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is probably gonna be my last chapter for like 3 weeks because I'm going on holiday, and I'll have no phone, wifi or youtube. Wish me luck!
> 
> Hope you enjoy this chapter, and I love you all xxx

Dean and Cas didn't see each other too much throughout late January and early February. Dean's jobs at the garage and bar kept him busy during the days and nights, and Cas was keeping busy with his studies.

But they made sure to ring or text whenever possible. Sometimes they even met up, mainly at Castiel's room (though there was one time that they met at a cafe/restaurant, had coffee and talked for a few hours before they were politely asked to leave for not ordering anything).

Sam's birthday came round, and Dean informed Cas that he had actually really liked the present Dean had given him - some book on 101 business tips. Cas tried really hard not to say "I told you so" in response to Dean's relieved babbling, and failed.

Then, before anyone could have realised it, February 14th came by.

Castiel didn't know that it was Valentine's Day, nor would he have cared. He was used to the traditional soppy advertisements clogging up the town and on tv. He remembered dreading the day each year at school, when cards and awkwardness would be exchanged.

He and Dean still hadn't gotten round to talking about the finer details of their relationship. They were enjoying spending time together too much to bother with stuff like that. It just felt like a very close friendship, which everyone who wasn't in the friendship just happened to think was more serious than it was... Not that this made any sense to anyone except Dean and Cas.

 

Then Meta-asshat came along and screwed everything up.

 

Like I said, it was Valentine's Day. Castiel had been going about his usual business: he'd woken up, been to a lecture, eaten a bowl of cereal and a sandwich and texted Dean. He was just about to go see if he could find Charlie and see if she wanted to hang out and maybe watch some Doctor Who, when he ran into Metatron.

Well, not 'ran into' exactly. Cas was walking out of the door to his room, and suddenly Metacraptastic was there. Since Castiel's room was right at the end of the hall, it was clear Metatron had been waiting in the area for him; something that sent a shock wave of annoyance and this-is-creepy-ness right through him.

"Hey there, Asstiel," smiled Metadickstick, rubbing the place on his stomach where Cas' box set of classic Doctor Who had jabbed him. Castiel wished that the box set had punched straight through him and out the other side, but he just smiled grudgingly.

"Hi, Metatron... Look, I'm kinda in a hurry, so..."

"Right, fair enough... Hey, you still with that guy of your's?"

"Dean? Yeah, why?"

"Oh, just 'cause it's Valentine's Day... that's where you're going, right? To see him?"

"Yeeeeaaaah," lied Cas. A small (very small - tiny) needle of pity for Metatron pierced him. Yeah, he was an ass who didn't know when to drop something. But it must suck to like someone, only to have them... well, hate you back.

"Ok then, Asstiel, I'll see you around," Metatron said loudly, and punched him non-too-gently on the shoulder before walking back down the hall.

He'd get over it, decided Cas.

Cas was continuing to walk to Charlie's before he remembered the main piece of information that Meta-pieceofshit had given him. 

It was Valentine's Day! ... Was it expected that he celebrate it some way, with Dean?

He thought it over for a few minutes, deciding. Eventually, he pulled out his phone and sent a quick text:

"Happy Valentine's Day!" -Castiel

There. Light and friendly. Nothing implied, and no hidden meanings or intentions. 

He went over to Charlie's, but she was... busy with Dorothy from Book Club. So Cas walked back over to his own room, to watch Doctor Who by himself. He was perfectly happy doing that, except he hadn't had a reply from Dean yet.

 

"Hey, Dean, I hope I didn't make it awkward or anything, by texting that..." -Castiel

 

Three hours of Doctor Who later, and there was still no word from Dean. Usually, it only took half an hour to and hour at most for him to answer... Come to think of it, Cas hadn't heard from Dean all day. Maybe Dean was trying to avoid contact on Valentine's Day, so that Cas wouldn't get the wrong idea, but then Cas had gone and screwed it up by texting him??

The moral of this story: never leave Castiel alone with his thoughts after he's just sent a text to someone he cares about (even if it's just in the completely platonic, 100% friendly way he cares about Dean).

As the day became evening, Cas had already convinced himself that he would never hear from Dean again.

 

"Dean?" -Castiel

...

"Crap, I have made it awkward, haven't I? Sorry" -Castiel

He knew he sounded desperate and stupid, but he couldn't help it.

...

Incoming call from: Dean

...

"Hey, Cas!"

"Dean!"

"Er, I only just got your texts, because I've been working all day, and I've had my phone switched off... I'm really sorry if I made you feel bad by not replying!"

"No, don't worry about it! I just didn't know if I'd overstepped the boundaries, or whatever."

"We should probably talk about stuff like that, so that there's no more confusion later on..."

"Yeah..."

"I can't be bothered either, don't worry."

"Good."

"Oh, and Cas? Don't worry about making it awkward. It will take a lot more than some cute text to embarrass me!"

"Good to kno-"

There was a knock at the door, and Cas narrowed his eyes. Surely not again-?

He opened the door, and (of course), there stood Dean, holding flowers and wearing a shit-eating grin.

"How many times are you going to do that?" Sighed Cas with a smile, moving out of the way and shutting the door behind Dean, and hanging up the phone in his hand.

"As many times as I can before it stops being adorable."

"Was it ever adorable?"

"Cassy, honey, we've been over this. I make everything adorable."

"Riiiiiiiiiiiight..."

Dean changed the topic by holding out the bunch of flowers towards Castiel.

"Happy Valentine's Day!"

"Erm, what's this?" Cas smiled awkwardly.

"This is me... keeping up appearances," Dean said quietly, making a big show of leaning in so no one else in the empty room would hear.

"Right. Thanks," Cas awkwardly awkwarded, feeling a slight blush brush across his face, "I er... Didn't get you anything, sorry."

"That's okay. There's always next year," Dean winked, and Castiel rolled his eyes - they both seemed to fall back into their familiar routine of jokes and laughter.

 

In the blink of an eye, it was dark outside. Dean was just leaving, when he stopped in the doorway.

"This was fun, Cas. And at least I was able to prove a point!"

"What point?"

"That I really, really don't get embarrassed or awkward easily."

And suddenly Dean was leaning in, closer and closer - until his breath was warm against Cas's face. Then he smoothly changed the angle of his direction, and kissed Cas's cheek.

He walked away down the hall, leaving Cas to close the door and try to regain his breathing.


	8. A Wild Sam Winchester Appears

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What kind of Destiel fanfic doesn't include Sam in some way? (No, not like THAT)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And I have returned from my hiatus of no wifi! It was actually surprisingly fun... But now I am back to spam you with my bad writing and Destiel feels!! xxx
> 
> Edit: I just noticed that now this story has over 1000 hits! Thanks!! x

"Dean?"

"I'm through here, Cas!"

Cas moved through the small room titled 'Singer Autos', and went out the door to the back. He came to a large yard filled with cars and bits of cars. And there sat Dean, on the hood of some black, old looking car.

"Hey Cassy! Care to join me?" Dean wiggled his eyebrows, and Cas rolled his eyes. He pulled himself up onto the car and sat next to him.

"Beer?" Offered Dean, holding out a bottle.

"No thanks," said Cas, and Dean shrugged and took a sip from it.

"So, it sure is sweet of you to surprise me at work!"

"You're the one who told me to come! You said it was an emergency."

"It was: I was bored."

Cas smiled and Dean laughed at his own joke, as he often did (not that Cas minded)

"Nice car," said Cas, trying vaguely to make conversation.

"Yep. This baby right here is a 1967 Chevy Impala!" Dean patted the car affectionately.

"Who's is it, and why is it sitting in a garage being used to sit on?"

"It's mine. Well, for now it's my Uncle Bobby's - but he said if I can fix it up, I can have it!"

"It's in pretty good condition already, though."

"That's because I've been working on it. For a year and a half now. Some customer left it ages ago, and Bobby didn't know what to do with it."

Dean took another swig of his beer, and Cas took the opportunity to study him. The late afternoon February sun gave a golden glow that rested gently on his head and face. He was leaning back on the car comfortably; his legs stretched out and one arm was behind his head. His green eyes seemed to glint with some unseen emotion, and his lips moved into the hint of a smile, like an acknowledgement of some half-forgotten joke.

Cas shook himself internally, feeling like he was coming out of a daze. Dean rested his bottle down.

"So. How's uni going?"

"The usual. Studying and all that crap."

"Has Metajerk been bothering you again?" Asked Dean, with raised eyebrows and a half-joking stern look in his eye.

"No, I try to stay away from him as much as possible..."

"Good."

"-Mainly because I know that if he bothers me again, both you and Charlie would probably knock him unconscious for three days straight, and no one is deserving of such a fate!"

Dean laughed, and then quietened slightly. Cas looked at him, slightly worried that he had said something wrong. But Dean looked quite content, just staring off into the distant sky. 

And then suddenly he was looking back at Cas. He was staring right into his eyes with a look that Cas hadn't ever really seen before. Dean was moving slowly up and towards him and Cas, as if some kind of instinct was driving him, leaned forward too, then-

"Dean? Hello?"

The look in Dean's eyes disappeared as quickly as it had come, and he leaned back suddenly, busying his hands with holding the bottle of beer and drinking.

A boy, no older than 16, was walking toward them. Even though Cas had never seen him before in his life, there was something of Dean in him. Maybe it was the confidence in the way he held himself; maybe it was the tallness. Either way, there could be no doubt about it: this was the one and only Sam Winchester.

The boy brushed his long brown hair out of his eyes, and smiled at Dean and Cas.

"Hey Sammy," said Dean with a grin, and slid down off of the car. Cas followed suit.

"Hey," said Sam, and allowed his brother to hug him. Cas was surprised - no, shocked - to see that there was finally someone taller than Dean. Sam was easily a few inches taller.

"Hi," Cas muttered, and Sam grinned at him.

"Oh yeah, Sam this is Cas, Cas this is Sam."

"Oh you're Cas?" Exclaimed Sam with a smile, and Cas got the sense that he had been mentioned many times before.

"Yep," said Cas, his eyes flicking over to Dean.

"Don't worry, it's just Dean is always telling me all about you. Nearly started to get sick of the sound of your name!"

"Well, I can't help it if I'm such an amazing and interesting person!" Laughed Cas, and Sam chuckled too. Dean just looked on with mild embarrassment.

"So, Sammy, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I just stopped by to say that I got the job for the work experience at the law firm!"

"That's great!"

"Yeah! I mean, it's just handing out coffees and stuff, but that's kind of the point of work experience!"

Dean and Sam talked for a bit, with Cas occasionally adding things to the discussion. Then Sam said he had to go, and that he'd only popped round on his way from school.

"Oh, and Dean? Bobby says that he 'Hopes you aren't planning on spending the whole day out here chatting with Cas here, and that as adorable as the two of you are, this is a working garage not a car park'." Sam smirked, putting on a gruff voice.

And, with a grin, Sam was gone.

Dean turned away and climbed back on the car.

"You know, sometimes I really hate that kid."


	9. Sh*t's Gettin Real

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Such drama, very excite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this is like the first time I've ever really written Stuff like this (wait until you get towards the end of this chapter, then you'll see) so please let me know if it's crap xxx

Things were going well for Cas and Dean. Surprisingly well. They had settled in to a comfortable routine of texting and talking and meeting for coffee on their mutual days off. They made each other laugh, they made each other smile, and (though both of them were too stubborn to admit it most of the time) they made each other happy. 

Then Metashit came, and can you guess what he did? He fucked everything up, just by existing.

 

Dean and Cas had been sitting around in Cas' dorm room, watching tv on his laptop and talking. Nothing much, just a regular part of their 'hanging out' thing. Then Dean had suggested the idea of going out for milkshakes at some diner where his friend worked. Cas went along with it happily - it was a surprisingly hot day for late February.

So they went to get milkshakes, and sat in the diner for a while watching all of the important business people go past doing their important business things.

Then they walked back to Cas' dorm, to finish watching the episode of Sherlock they had started that morning. They were just turning the corner to his corridor, and Cas was just retrieving his key from his pocket when they both simultaneously noticed a figure at the end of the corridor, skulking around.

Cas was the first to act, pulling Dean by the arm back round the corner out of sight.

"So that was Metatron," he said, in a fake cheery voice. He was no longer terrified of Metatron, but memories of the high-school taunting and the basic harassment before Dean stepped in seemed clear in his mind.

"Yep. Don't worry though, I'm here... Erm, and I won't let him do anything."

"Dean, please don't you do anything. Just act like he doesn't exist, like he's not even there."

"What?"

"Trust me on this. If you start punching him, or whatever it is you're imagining right now, then this has no way of ending well," Cas said, trying to sound calm and detached.

"Are you saying I couldn't win in a fight against Metadickbag?" Grinned Dean.

Cas sighed.

"Look, just breeze right on past him like he isn't worth the time of day, because he isn't."

"Fine," Dean said, and Cas prepared to walk again, "Wait! He's obviously out there for a reason, right? And that reason is probably to talk to you, yeah?"

"... Yeah?"

"So he's not just going to let it go if I'm with you, is he?"

"What are you saying?"

"That we have to make him as uncomfortable as possible."

Dean waited until the cunning smile forming on Cas' face mirrored his own, and then placed his arm carefully around his shoulders and steered him out into the hallway.

The hallway wasn't a very long hallway, but Dean tried to fit as much lowkey sickness-inducing public displays of affection in as he could. At one point, he whispered in Cas' ear:

"Giggle like I've said something funny, and cute, and embarrassing."

Cas obliged, letting out a (completely adorable) giggle that actually sounded pretty real.

Dean kept his arm draped over Cas while they walked past Metatron. He didn't look at Metatron, didn't even really think about him. Dean just focused on the warm body pressed against his side, and how close they were.

"Hey As-.. Castiel?"

So close, yet so far. Cas was just opening the door with his key, when Metatron's voice made him turn around.

Dean noticed that Cas' hand was shaking slightly so, without thinking, he gently twined their fingers together. A small gesture of solidarity and comfort, but he could feel Cas start to relax immediately.

"Yes?" Dean was proud to hear the cool detachment in Cas' voice.

"... Nevermind."

Metatron looked as if he had nearly been on the brink of saying something meaningful. Oh well.

"That was a whole lot of effort for a 'nevermind'," muttered Dean, turning back to the door. He didn't need to look again to know that Metatron had flounced off.

Cas opened the door, letting Dean go in first and then shutting it behind them. When he turned around again, Dean was a whole lot closer than he had expected.

What happened next was completely unexpected and unplanned for both of them.

Their bodies and minds seemed to move and think as one, crashing together like waves on a beach. Their lips pressed together in a passionate struggle for closeness; brains blank apart from the one desperate urge driving them on.

Dean's hand were in Cas' hair, on his face, round his neck. They twined around him like ropes, pulling them both closer and closer still.

Cas's eyes were closed, and his breathing was coming in short and heavy gasps. In a rush of excitement, Dean was struggling at Cas' shirt, trying to unbutton it, trying to get it off, trying to get rid of as many of the layers between them as he could.

In the resulting struggle, both of them fell, landing heavily on Cas' bed. Cas gave a shaky laugh, and tried to help Dean to undo the buttons. But then the lack of a warm body next to him made him look up. 

Dean was suddenly standing again, looking at Cas with a wash of sickness across his face. He was panting, and he looked... well, someone who didn't know him might say he looked terrified. But that wasn't like Dean, he-

He was walking. Walking away, fast. Out of the door. Not picking up his jacket, discarded on the floor. Door didn't even close or slam behind him; it was as taken aback and surprised by his exit as Cas was.

Dean had left him.


	10. In Which Charlie Bradbury Is 100% Done With Your Sh*t, Dean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Charlie Bradbury plays matchmaker

'I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up. I fucked up.'

These three words were the only obvious thoughts circling Dean's brain. He didn't pay attention to where his feet were taking him; only to the fact that he needed to get out. Out of the building, away from... everything.

And then, quite suddenly, he shoved straight into a small, red-haired figure, who promptly dropped the books they had been carrying all over the floor.

"Oh, you little shi-" she started, before looking up and seeing Dean, "Hey Dean, do you mind helping me to pick up these books? It's just some annoying person knocked them all out of my hands!" 

She laughed, and Dean didn't join in.

"Dean?"

"Charlie, I don't have time - I... I have to go. Now."

Charlie finished gathering up her books again, and stood up in time to grab Dean by the arm and pull him back.

"You aren't going anywhere until you tell me what's wrong."

Then, to Dean's horror, she started marching him back the way he had been going.

"Where-?"

"Come on, we'll go see Cas and then you can talk-"

"No! I need to... I need to get away, Charlie."

"Get away from Cas?"

They were now stopped, right in the middle of the hallway. A few students were passing, giving them funny looks. Now was not the time nor the place for a heart-to-heart.

Charlie seemed to sense this.

"Come on, then. We'll go to my room, and we'll talk there."

She didn't physically drag Dean this time, but she moved away with a certain confidence that he would follow. Which he did: like a little, lost puppy, he trailed after her.

They reached a room, which Charlie let them into. The walls were covered with posters of bands unknown to Dean; the bed was rumpled and unmade, though it looked soft and comfortable, and there were stacks of books everywhere. It had a messy, lived-in feel to it, which was surprisingly pleasant.

Charlie sat Dean on the armchair squeezed in next to her desk, and then sat herself on the bed. She leaned forward and looked at him, and he felt as though he was being studied.

"So, Dean. What's happened?"

"I fucked up."

"Gonna need some more detail there. 'I fucked up' could cover anything from 'I spilt some tea on a new carpet' to 'I killed a person'," she said gently.

Dean struggled for a few seconds, unsure of how to say it.

"... I kissed Cas," he finally blurted. He cringed at the bluntness of it, and at the entire situation. Everything sounds worse when it's said out loud.

"Okay... I'm still going to need some more detail, if that's alright."

Dean gaped at her. Surely the only important part of this was that he had kissed him? He had completely screwed up their friendship, and probably made Cas incredibly uncomfortable.... And no amount of 'detail' was going to change that!

But he went along with it anyways, because one doesn't simply ignore Charlie Bradbury.

"Well... We'd been out, to a cafe to have a drink and talk and stuff, and we were just coming back when suddenly Metatron's there, right outside the room. And... Well, you know all the stuff that's been going on. So I'm considering walking over, and just punching him to get it over with. But Cas says, no, we gotta just walk past like he means nothing.

"So I agree, because this is his fight. But I say that we should try and act as... lovey-dovey as possible, just to make him uncomfortable. I don't know what I was thinking, but I basically suggest that we act like the most disgustingly in love couple that has ever existed."

A small smile played at Charlie's mouth, but she hid it quickly.

"So we walk past him, and I've got my arm round Cas and I'm whispering in his ear and shit like that. It actually works - Metatron just leaves it. But then we're in Cas' room, and the door is shut, and there's no need to carry on with the act, but... I want to."

"And all of a sudden, I'm standing really close to Cas, and then... I'm kissing him."

Dean looked at the floor, reluctant to continue. After a minute or so, Charlie prompted him,

"What happens next?"

"Well, we're kissing... and stuff. Cas is sitting on his bed - no, half lying on it, looking up at me. Then... Then I realise what I did, and... I leave."

"You ran away?"

Dean looked up at Charlie, surprised at her vaguely accusatory tone.

"I... didn't want to make things worse."

"Okay let me get this straight (or maybe not), you kissed Cas, he kissed you back, then you 'realised what you did' and ran away and left him?"

"If I had stayed, it would have made things worse!"

"How? By bringing how you feel out into the open? By having an nice, calm discussion like adults?"

"It wouldn't have been calm! Cas... he would... he would have hated me!"

Dean could feel his voice rising, and Charlie's voice rising to match his.

"Really? Hate you - Cas? Dean, I didn't honestly think you were that stupid!"

"Shut up!"

Dean's voice reached the height of it's volume, and seemed to splinter and break away as he spoke. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, feeling the room spinning around him. This was all way too much...

"Dean?"

And Charlie. She wanted to help, she thought that she was. But she wasn't.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was soft and gentle again. It didn't help either.

Then she tried another tactic.

"Dean, how did it feel? When you were kissing Cas?"

Against his will, thoughts raced through his brain; images; feelings:

A thousand fireworks, bursting with light and colour, exploding as their lips touched.  
The feel of Cas' soft hair beneath his fingertips.  
His stomach doing backflips, his brain struggling to compute.  
The taste of his mouth - the taste of desire melting on his tongue.

"It felt amazing."

 

Charlie let him sit for a few minutes, absorbed in his thoughts, trying to work it all out. She didn't bother him, she just sat there too.

Then, when she somehow magically knew that he was calmed down enough, she said,

"You know what you have to do." It was a statement, not a question. Dean nodded and opened his eyes, but she continued anyway.

"You have to talk to him. You have to tell him how you feel."

Dean knew that was what he 'had' to do, but he didn't have to like it.

"What if... He doesn't feel the same? Oh God, what if I've ruined everything?"

"Okay, look. I know your type, Dean Winchester. So used to sleeping around with no consequences that when you finally develop feelings you think there's something wrong with you. And I know this is scary. But Cas isn't scary. The guy's like a little cute kitten, you know that. 

"So, if (and note how I say IF) he doesn't feel the same way do you really, honestly think that he'll let it change anything? Do you think Castiel Novak is the kind of person who would reject you horribly and then just never see you again? Because I don't."

Dean sighed. He knew that Charlie was probably right. But what use is probably when you're trying to get rid of the worries in your head?

"Oh, and another thing... You're so worried, so convinced, that Cas will reject you. But when you guys kissed, he didn't exactly fight to make it stop, did he?"

Reluctant to smile, Dean just sighed again, and looked at the floor.

Really, this shouldn't be so difficult, he thought to himself. I'm Dean Winchester, and surely I'm not afraid of facing my... feelings?

Charlie smiled at him, feeling like a proud mother.

"Right, let's get this over with," said Dean with an only-slightly-forced amount of cheeriness, standing up. Charlie did the same.

"Because that's a healthy outlook to have on this!" She muttered sarcastically. He just rolled his eyes, and walked out of the door.

Then he paused, noticing she was following.

"Woah woah woah. You're not coming with me!"

"But you don't know the way to Cas' room from here!"

"Yes I do! You just want to come along and see how everything works out."

She looked guilty.

"Okay, yeah I do. But I am definitely coming with you, to make sure you don't freak out and change your mind halfway there!"

Dean raised his eyebrows at her, but she stood firm and refused to move.

"Come on then."

"Yesss! Destiel here I come!"

"What?"

"N-nothing..."

 

And so Dean stood outside Cas' door, having shooed Charlie away down the hall. He was trying to take some deep breaths and calm down, but it wasn't working.

Screw it.

He knocked on the door.


	11. Cas Is Pissed and Handsome, and Dean Is Intimidated

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (See chapter title)
> 
> (I should really make my chapter titles shorter, because 1. I end up with nothing to say in the summaries except 'See chapter title' and 2. Who am I, Fall Out Boy?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's haaaaappening!!!
> 
> Thank you for reading this story so far, and I really hope you enjoy this chapter! xxx

**Cas' POV**

 

Cas heard the knocks on his door, and immediately felt his heart skip a beat, then drop. It wouldn't be Dean, of course it wouldn't. He would be long gone by now, at some seedy bar with people who were way more attractive and interesting than Cas. 

It would be Charlie, come to watch Doctor Who or something. He really didn't feel like talking to anyone, but he heaved himself up off his bed anyway. As he walked to the door, he looked in the mirror quickly. His normal shock of dark hair and pale features stood out at him - only now the smile that he usually tried to keep on his face was gone, and he just looked tired.

He wondered how he was going to explain this to Charlie.

 

**Dean's POV**

 

Cas opened the door in a very anti-climactic way. Dean had half been expecting to hear dramatic drum beats and heavy music that matched the beat of his heart to be playing as the door swung open. But no, there was just the faint sounds of birds outside and of laughter coming from a distant room.

Cas looked good.

There was no getting around it: he looked annoyingly unruffled by the events of the last hour or so. His hair was delightfully tousled, his clothes were neat (but in an I-woke-up-like-this-and-didn't-even-try way) and his eyes had that storybook-hero, brooding-thought look in them. At most, he looked a little tired.

Dean was pissed that Cas looked so handsomely unfazed by Dean's sudden appearance. It was incredibly unfair; he, Dean, felt and probably looked like shit.

"Hey," said Dean, wincing at his awkward tone. He leaned against the doorway, "Um, can I come in?"

Cas shrugged, and opened the door wider and moved away so that Dean could come in.

Dean shut the door, and stood uncomfortably about a metre away from Cas, who also wasn't sitting down.

He avoided looking at Cas, who was staring directly at him with some kind of intense magic gaze that could see right into his soul. He couldn't tell whether Cas was angry, hurt or just coolly indifferent to Dean's very existence.

But then he looked back at Cas, trying to mirror the searching gaze (only without the venom behind it). There was something about the way his jaw was clenched, and the way his arms crossed over his body like armour. 

This, this whole thing, with the stern looks and the cool silence: it was Cas' defence mechanism. 

Growing up in a big, strict, Christian family must have been tough. You have to learn how to protect yourself against all kinds of threats, Dean thought.

"So? Are you going to say something, or are we just going to stand here staring at each other for the rest of time?" Cas' tone was clipped and cool. Dean had never heard him talk like that; not even when he was dealing with Metatron.

"I didn't think this far ahead," said Dean, with what he hoped was a confident smile. He wasn't going to copy Cas and act like he didn't care. Because he did.

"You seem to have a habit of doing that," was the reprimanding response, and Dean's smile faded.

"Yeah... I do, don't I?"

Dean took a deep breath. It was now or never.

"Cas, I am so sorry. I fucked up. Okay? I really fucked up. On a scale of fucked-upness, I would easily score one hundred. Or a really high level, depending on how high the scale goes. Or-"

"You're babbling," Cas muttered, and there was a hint (a very tiny hint!) of a smile beneath his words. Then he carried on, "Was the fucking-up you referred to us kissing or you running away afterwards?"

"Why does everyone keep referring to it as running away? I thought I'd be making it worse by staying..."

"Then you really didn't think that one through."

"No... And, in terms of which I meant... Well, Cas, that really depends on how you feel about this whole thing."

"How I feel?"

"Yeah. Because... I think that the bad part of all this was me running away from it. That's the only thing I regret. But if that makes you uncomfortable... then all of it was me fucking-up, and I'm sorry. Well, I'm sorry regardless of which part was the fuck-up," Dean said all of this quickly, almost in one breath.

"I think you need to stop saying the phrase 'fuck up'."

"Maybe."

Cas was quiet for a while again, but this time he wasn't staring at Dean. Just at the floor, as though he was thinking something over.

"So... The kiss bit wasn't the bit you regretted?" He asked quietly. Dean smiled gently.

"No. That bit was actually quite nice."

"I agree," Cas said suddenly, with an air of getting something over with.

"... You do?"

"Yes."

"Oh," Dean said awkwardly. He had no idea how to say what he wanted to say, "Cas I'm no good at this."

"Me neither."

"Yes, you are. I'm the one who acted stupidly!"

"To be fair, it was your fucking-up that got in the way of us... you know, fucking," Cas casually said. It was in that moment that the old Cas had 100% returned.

Dean just gaped at him. He thought he was the one who didn't get flustered!

"Um..." Was all Dean could get out. Then Cas was laughing really, really hard.

"Oh my _God_ , Dean! You've gone all red!"

"Well, you can't just _say_ stuff like that and expect no... reaction! I thought I was the one who didn't get flustered and then you come along..."

Cas shook his head, still chuckling.

"So, Cas... I propose that Operation: TRHT is stepped up a level."

"Come on Dean, use actual English please."

"Fiiiiiine. Castiel Novak, will you be my 100%-for-real-this-time boyfriend?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"... Yes, Dean Winchester, I will be your 100%-for-real-this-time boyfriend!"

"Good."

Then they were laughing again, at the sheer awkwardness of the situation. It was a good kind of awkwardness though, a nice one.

 

Dean was just leaving Cas' room, several hours later. They hugged, talked a little bit more, and Cas was opening the door...

...And there sat Charlie, leaning up against the wall next to the door. She was cross-legged and reading a book, though when she saw Dean and Cas looking at her, she sighed and closed it.

"Well, that was probably the most torturously adorable couple-getting-together thing that I've ever listened to."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it is done! (by which I mean it has happened! I don't, however, mean that this story is done. Because it isn't)


	12. Dates Are Terrifying (As Dean Discovers)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Since they are dating, Dean decides to ask Cas on a date.
> 
> The only trouble is, Dean's never done this before: dating a person, or being in a serious relationship. 
> 
> He is way out of his depth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys!! How are things with you?
> 
> I go back to school this Friday (uuugggghhh) so idk how that's going to affect when I'm able to update. Apologies in advance if the breaks between chapters suddenly get really long!
> 
> Warning: There are homophobic comments/slurs towards the end of the chapter. I apologise in advance xxx

Dean and Cas were sat on Cas' bed, in their normal routine of sitting around and watching Doctor Who on a Sunday afternoon. (Dean wasn't the biggest fan of Doctor Who, but he had Cas gently leaning his head against Dean's shoulder, so he couldn't really complain.)

It was a good episode, one of Cas' favourites: the first Weeping Angels episode, 'Blink'. Even Dean had to admit that the storyline was pretty good. 

About halfway through the episode, Dean gestured for Cas to pause it, and twisted round so that they were facing each other.

"So, what do you think of it so far?" Cas asked, before Dean could say anything else.

"What? Oh, the episode's pretty good, yeah!"

"Just pretty good? Wait until you get the end, it'll blow your mind!"

"Woah, spoilers much!"

They laughed a little, and then Cas went to play the episode again.

"Wait, um, Cas, can we talk quickly?"

"Of course. What is it, Dean? Have I driven you away already with my obsession with Doctor Who?" Cas grinned, trying to lighten the vague look of fear on Dean's face. He was half successful: Dean gave a small smile.

"Nah, 'course not. It's not that easy to get rid of me! No, I just... We haven't been.. dating for that long, have we?"

"No, it's been... just over a week."

Memories of the past week flashed in Cas' mind. Dean had come round whenever he had a break from work, (which was almost every day for about half an hour) and they texted a lot in between times, but their relationship hadn't really changed that much from before. It's just now they didn't need to use Metatron as an excuse to act like a couple.

"Right. So, uh... I was wondering if maybe... Um..."

Cas had rarely seen Dean get flustered like this, and when it happened he enjoyed it immensely.

"Dean, are you blushing?" Cas teased, and Dean groaned, trying to cover his face with his hands.

"I'm not blushing, you're blushing," he mumbled. Cas giggled, and nudged him.

"Come on, spit out what you wanted to say!"

"I... was going to ask if maybe you wanted to go out somewhere. With me," said Dean quickly, trying to sound confident and his usual self (and failing). He cursed silently. Chatting someone up in a bar, sleeping around, Hell even pretending to be some random stranger's boyfriend he could do. But cute, ordinary, relationship stuff? No.

"Like a date?" Cas asked calmly. (How? How was he calm and collected when Dean was a stuttering mess? He thought Cas was supposed to be the clumsy, awkward one!)

"Um... yeah?"

"I'd like that."

"You would?"

"Well, duh. We are dating, Dean."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"You're blushing again."

Dean sighed, rolled his eyes, and started the Doctor Who episode again to shut him up.

 

Five episodes later, and Dean had to leave (Sam had started spamming his phone with texts whenever he was late home, generally with fun things like "How's Cas?" and "Remember to use protection!". Cas found it hilarious, but even he had to admit it was very distracting when they were in the middle of something.)

Dean was just about to walk out of Cas' room, when suddenly he remembered something and turned around.

"We didn't sort out the details of our date!"

"Oh yeah! Do you want to that now?"

Dean thought for a second, then another text from Sam buzzed in his pocket.

"I should probably be going. But I'll text you!"

"Okay!"

They kissed briefly, then Dean left.

-

"Friday, 7pm onwards. I have the night off!" -Dean

"Dean, it's 2 am." -Cas

"I know, the perfect time for brainstorming!" -Dean

"With all due respect and kindness, fuck you." -Cas

"Don't worry, sunshine, that'll come later. ;)" -Dean

"I hate you." -Cas

"Nah, you love it. Come on, let's brainstorm ideas! The sooner we come up with something, the sooner you can go back to sleep!" -Dean

"Right, so what were your initial ideas?" -Cas

"I don't know." -Dean

"That's helpful. Where have you been before on dates?" -Cas

...

"... Dean, is this your first date?" -Cas

"Yes. Is that a problem?" -Dean

"Of course not, don't be stupid. This will be my first date too." -Cas

"Oh. That's good." -Dean

"Yeah. It means that we'll be each other's first (dates)." -Cas

"Oh my God." -Dean

"Are you blushing again?" -Cas

"Shut up! That was one time!" -Dean

"Well, it definitely won't be the last time." -Cas

"I hate you." -Dean

"Oh how the tables have tabled." -Cas

"Tabled? Is that even a word?" -Dean

"Well my phone seems to think so, because it didn't try to correct me. And ssssh you're lucky I haven't passed out from tiredness yet." -Cas

"Yeah. Right, back to the topic!" -Dean

"Dean, we could just go to a bar or something and see what happens from there. It doesn't have to be anything big or fancy." -Cas

"... Really?" -Dean

"Look, I don't really care where we go. Mostly because I feel too sleep-deprived to function, but also because I'm sure I'll enjoy it anyway if you're there." -Cas

"Thanks, Cas." -Dean

"No problem. So is that what we're gonna do then?" -Cas

"Yeah, if you're good with that. So I'll come by and pick you up at 7pm next Friday?" -Dean

"Okay, sounds good!" -Cas

"Also... I just want to let you know... That in exchange for the night off on Friday, I told my manager that I'd cover the lunchtime shifts at the bar this week. So, uh, I probably won't be able to see you much. Sorry!" -Dean

"Hey, that's okay. We'll just text instead." -Cas

"Thanks for understanding. When I told Bobby about it, he said that if he were you, he'd be really pissed off." -Dean

"Nah, it's cool. I'll just store up all of my pissed-off-ness and use it to my advantage one day." -Cas

"Sounds good." -Dean

"Night, Dean." -Cas

"Night, Cas." -Dean

-

It was Friday. And Dean was running late. Quite literally; he was sprinting around the house grabbing wallet, shoes, keys. He needed to be at Cas' dorm for 7pm, and it was 6:58pm. 

It didn't help that Sam was silently laughing at him as he got more and more flustered. Sam didn't know that Dean was going on an actual proper date, but he could probably guess. 

Somehow, Dean ended up at the door to dorm 221 only five minutes late. It was miraculous, but he found that suddenly he was sweating quite a lot and breathing heavily. Forcing himself to take some deep breaths, he calmed down and knocked on the door.

Cas opened the door straight away, as if he'd been waiting for the sound. Which he probably had. Seeing Dean, he relaxed immediately.

"Hey," he said, grabbing his keys and walking out of the room to shut the door.

"Hey Cas... You look great!" Dean said awkwardly, because he did. Cas was wearing just a regular shirt and jeans, but it suited him.

"Thanks, you too," he said, locking the door and turning round to start walking, "... Did you run here?"

"Pfffft, no! ... I just felt like getting some exercise, so..."

"Riiiiiiight," Cas rolled his eyes with a smile. Dean laughed, only slightly embarrassed.

They walked into town, and went to a bar (thankfully not the one that Dean worked at). They sat for a while at one of the tables, talking. Dean had a beer, and Cas had a lemonade ("I told you, Dean, I don't really like beer! I'm fine with lemonade.")

They must have sat there for at least an hour, but they didn't run out of things to talk about. It was surprisingly not-awkward once they got used to it. Dean started to relax, especially once he realised this was almost the same as when they'd meet up as friends.

Eating at the bar was considered, but then Dean made the good point that he'd served enough of the food at his bar to be sick of the sight of it.

Instead, they decided to walk down towards the beach and go to one of the old-fashioned takeaway fish and chip shops, get some food and sit down on the wall by the sand to eat it. (Dean was trying to reason with himself that this was definitely appropriate date food - and besides, the view of the stars and the dark beach and the darker ocean was beautiful)

"I remember I used to take Sammy here when we were kids. I was 10 and he was about six, and we'd sneak out of the house and run down. If I had enough money I'd buy us both ice creams, and if I didn't then we'd just play for hours anyway."

"Didn't your dad mind?"

"He didn't even notice. He'd be out somewhere drinking, or he'd be at home in such a stupor he couldn't move. And even if he knew, he wouldn't care."

"I'm sorry, Dean."

"Nah, it's fine. Sometimes we'd run off to Bobby's for the weekend, and he'd take us down here then too.... We never had a dad in our father, but we had a dad in Bobby. He cares, y'know?" Dean smiled, with only a hint of sadness.

"That's good."

"Yeah."

 

When they'd finished eating, and when it got so dark they could barely see each other, they threw away their rubbish and stood up. 

"Well, Cas, it's 10pm. Do you think we should probably be getting back to our respective homes?"

"Probably."

As they walked, their arms brushed together. Then their hands were entwined, curling around each other, and they pulled each other along.

-

Walking through quiet streets was peaceful and nice, but walking past the crowded, bright doorways of pubs and bars was very much the opposite. Whole groups of people would whisper and stare as they walked past. It was impossible not to notice. Cas tried to keep his head held high and his mind calm, but he could tell it was getting to Dean.

"Faggots."

The word was spat in their direction by a scruffy, balding man in his late 30's who was brandishing a sloshing bottle of beer like it was a sword. He had a thick, unkempt beard (maybe to make up for the lack of hair on his head), and he looked like he hadn't washed or changed his clothes in at least a week. His voice slurred and his movements were slow and groggy; he was clearly drunk off his head.

But he glared at Dean and Cas with a ferocity that could have broken glass. 

"What did you just say to us?" Dean said back, in his most intimidating, 'you'd-better-shut-the-hell-up' tone of voice. Cas tried tugging at his arm; fighting this drunk old man wouldn't do anyone any favours.

"Are you deaf as well as a faggot, boy?"

Dean started forward, looking like he was going to rip the stupid guy's throat out.

"Dean, stop," Cas spoke up, moving in front of him so that he was physically stopping him. He reached out and held one of Dean's arm, as if to say "I'm here, it's fine, he can't hurt us if we don't let him". Or, at least, that's what he was trying to say.

"Yeah Dean," came the crusty voice of the drunk idiot, "Listen to your stupid pretty boyfriend and fuck off."

Dean nearly lunged at him, but Cas made sure he was in the way again, and physically shoved him back. Eventually, he persuaded Dean to move and keep walking, but then the hoarse voice came slithering out of the darkness again...

"I knew your daddy. John Winchester's an old pal of mine. How d'you think he'd feel if he knew his eldest son was gay? You'd be such a disappointment to him, walking around holding hands with a man, of all things! It just ain't right. It's disgusting, and if he knew he'd probably try and beat it out of you..."

Dean nearly snapped then. He nearly lunged at the man and tore off his head. But before he could move, Castiel was moving forward.

"Shut the Hell up, okay? You're just a homophobic old drunk who'll never amount to anything in his life. You've never done any good in the world, and now you probably never will. You'll keep drinking 'till you can't walk every night, and then you'll be dead in a few years. So you DEFINITELY don't get to tell us that we shouldn't be together just because we're both men. I don't care if it 'ain't right' - I'd rather be in love with someone who's the same gender as me than be a stupid, dirty old being consumed by hatred! So just fuck off and leave us alone, alright?"

Cas finished his speech with a look that could have brought the whole sky tumbling down around this man. Then he was walking away, pulling a confused and shocked Dean along behind him.

-

They stopped when they couldn't see or hear the old guy yelling curses at them. They stood, leaning against a wall in a quiet street with dark, peaceful houses.

"Sorry about that," Cas said. His voice now sounded soft and warm again. When he was verbally beating the crap out of the homophobe, his voice had gone all deep and gravelly, like he'd been... possessed by some all-powerful being.

Dean somehow found enough words and sound to speak.

"Sorry? Cas, that was the best thing I've seen... Ever. You just basically murdered some dude with your words!"

Cas gave a small half smile.

"I am sorry though. Not to him, not for what I said to him. I'm sorry for what he said to you."

"Oh. Yeah."

"... Your father wouldn't be disappointed in you, Dean. Or at least he shouldn't be. He should be proud of you; you've looked after your brother your whole life, you juggle two different jobs and... well, you're just generally pretty awesome. But maybe I'm biased."

Dean grinned sheepishly, looking at the floor.

"It hasn't ruined the date, has it?" Cas asked anxiously. Dean put an arm around his shoulder.

"Of course not. It would take a lot more than that to ruin a date with you," he smiled, then leaned in so that he was murmuring into Cas's hair, "Besides, you're hot when you're angry."


	13. Is This The End?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Goodbye to an arch-enemy
> 
> A going-away party
> 
> Some drunken tears
> 
> A happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Last chapter
> 
> Oh my god)
> 
> Hope you enjoy!! xxx

"You'll never guess what," Castiel said flatly, as he opened the door for Dean and gestured for him to come inside.

"Okay, no hello or anything, that's fine."

Cas seemed kind of in a daze. He was still in his pyjamas, his hair was tousled and messy, he'd only woken up half an hour ago and he hadn't even had coffee yet. If Dean was being honest, this was the kind of Cas he liked the best. This. Cas was 5 foot nine inches of an odd mixture of cuddliness and concentrated sass.

"Sorry. Hello oh darling boyfriend. How was the ten minute walk over here? I bet it was brimming with stories that are way more interesting than what I have to say," Cas grumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. Dean grinned, and wrapped an arm round Cas' waist.

"Okay, you may continue now," he whispered in Cas's ear.

"Thank you... So get this. This morning, I woke up to the sound of scratching at my door. Assuming it was some kind of monster/werewolf/random intruder, I grabbed one of my heavy-duty textbooks and crept over to the door. But before I could wrench it open and see who was outside and maybe kill them-"

"Wow, remind me never to get on the wrong side of you in the mornings."

"You have got on the wrong side of me in the mornings. Multiple times."

"So why am I still alive?"

"Because you're funny," Cas shrugged, and smiled at Dean's look of fake surprise, "Now sshhh, I'm trying to tell my story."

"Right. Of course," Dean said, and mimed zipping up his mouth.

"So, before I could open the door, the sound stops and I hear quiet footsteps walking away quickly. Then I notice that, poking through at the bottom of my door, is a bit of paper."

"What did the paper say?"

"It couldn't talk."

"Fuck off, Cas. What was on the bit of paper?"

"This wasn't just an ordinary bit of paper, you understand. This... Was an invitation. To a certain person's going-away, good-luck, good-riddance party."

"Who-?"

Cas leaned over and rummaged through a stack of papers on his desk. After a few seconds, he triumphantly produced a crumpled invitation emblazoned with the words _'Goodbye, Metatron! We'll miss you!!!'_

"No way," said Dean, a smile growing like a flower on his face.

"Yes way," Cas smirked, "No more Metadouche. He's leaving the university!"

"Oh my God! No more having to worry about him flirting really badly with you!"

"Yep!"

"... Wait, so who delivered the invitation personally to you, then?"

Cas grimaced and went back over to the stack of papers on his desk. After yet more rummaging, he came back with a slightly-torn, yellow post-it note. "This came with it."

_'You coming? After everything, it'd be nice to say goodbye  
PS - you don't have to bring your boyfriend if you don't want :)'_

Dean looked up in outrage.

"Boyfriend? That's me! You are bringing me though, right? I don't even know what he's high on if he thinks you're going alone!"

"Of course you're coming too, you egg," Cas nudged him sharply, "You think I'd willingly go over to Metatron's stupid party alone? And besides, why would I be telling you if I didn't want you to come?"

"Oh yeah. When is it?"

Cas consulted the invitation again.

"Uh, tomorrow night from 10pm onwards."

"Oh my god, that's so rude. He gave you barely any warning. You could be busy for all he knows."

"Will you be able to get the time off?"

"Of course."

"Good," said Cas, "If I had to go on my own I would actually kill you."

Dean smiled, and twirled Cas around then pulled him close."

"Nah, if you had to go alone then I wouldn't let you go. After all, that smiley face on the the Post-It note seemed way too suggestive."

"That smiley face has other intentions than just a friendly party."

"If it had eyebrows, it would be wiggling them suggestively."

"Poor Metacrap, he never was a good artist."

They laughed, not necessarily because everything was hugely funny. They laughed because it was a reflex; a natural instinct that came from the comfortable flow of their relationship. They laughed because of the warm glow that settled inside whenever they touched each other. They laughed because the laughter itself was infectious.

 

\- (Friday, 9pm)

 

"Hey Cas, what are you wearing?" -Dean

"Is this a flirtation?" -Cas

"Is it working? ... Nah, I just don't know what to wear tonight." -Dean

"Leaving it a bit late, aren't you?" -Cas

"That's just how I roll. Now come on, what are you wearing?" -Dean

"Wow, you're starting to sound like Metadouche." -Cas

"CASTIEL NOVAK I SWEAR TO GOD." -Dean

"Ooh touchy subject. Anyway, I'm just wearing a shirt and some trousers. No big deal. Because, remember Dean, tonight isn't a big deal." -Cas

"What colour shirt? What kind of trousers? You need to be better at describing, Cassy!" -Dean

"Really? Back to Cassy?" -Cas

"Be thankful I haven't started aggressively singing George Ezra whenever you walk into a room." -Dean

"What?" -Cas

"... Nevermind. So come on! Detail of clothes so we can coordinate! Unless you want me to be late." -Dean

"I'm sorry, so we can coordinate? What is this, high school prom? Should I send you a picture of my dress so that you know exactly what tie to get?" -Cas

"Cassy, don't get sassy. Look, humour me, okay?" -Dean

"Okay. I'm wearing a white shirt, with blue jeans. I'm probably going to wear the trench coat too, because the heating here is shit." -Cas

"Ah, the trench coat. I do love the trench coat." -Dean

"So, has my amazing fashion sense inspired you?" -Cas

"Kind of." -Dean

"Dean. I know that you're stressing about this, but don't. It's gonna be fine, there'll be loads of friends there (including Charlie) that we can hang out with instead of being around Meta-asshat. Or, y'know, you could always blame alcohol and get into a drunk fight with him. (I'm kidding, don't do that.) But just... Relax. Take it easy. It'll be really fun." -Cas

"Okay. So I'll see you in like an hour then?" -Dean

"Yeah. Meet me at my dorm room and we can hang out for a while before heading over. Don't want to be the only ones there early." -Cas

"Okay." -Dean

"Okay." -Cas

 

\- (10:00 pm)

 

Cas was sitting around in his room waiting for Dean to arrive. He could hear the thumping bassline from several dorms away, and had been able to hear it for the last hour or so. At least it would be pretty easy to find the party.

After a few minutes, there was a knock at the door. Cas opened it, and was suddenly faced by Dean, who was leaning against the door frame and smirking at him.

"Hey, Cassy," he said, in what was clearly an attempt at a sexy growl.

"Admit it, how many times did you fall over whilst trying to stand like that?"

"Too many to count," Dean sighed, immediately snapping out of it and standing straight again.

Cas laughed, and opened to door wider to let him in.

"So I'm guessing you finally realised what to wear?"

Dean was wearing a blood-red shirt and black trousers, underneath a black leather biking jacket. He looked... intimidatingly attractive, apart from the proud-puppy grin on his face. His outfit was the complete antithesis of Cas' - dark vs light, hot vs awkward, casual vs smart. But there was also something familiar about it...

Then it hit Cas.

"...You didn't..."

Dean's shit-eating grin was enough to answer.

He had worn the same thing as when they had first met.

"I hate you."

"Awh, you love it. Come on, d'you remember when we first met? Barely a minute in and I was already your boyfriend."

"Fake boyfriend, remember?"

"Yeah. We tried to no-homo it, but it never really worked."

"I still hate you."

"Admit it, you think it's adorable. We've come in a full circle! And think about it - you can spend your last few hours with Metafuckwad reminding him that you are happy. That we are happy."

"You're an adorable giant dork and now I hate you even more."

"I know."

 

They stayed in Cas' room talking about Dean's work and Cas' classes, and about fifty other topics. Then Dean looked at the clock.

"Right, it's getting on for quarter to eleven somehow. Do you wish to head into war?"

"Yes sir. And if I do not survive, tell my family it's all their fault."

"Of course, Private Novak."

They linked arms, and walked out of the room together. It was easy getting to the party - they just followed the sound of music and laughter until they thought their eardrums might burst. 

People were running in and out of the several dorm rooms that the party spanned over. Banners and balloons and streamers decked the halls with quotes such as _'We'll miss you Metatron!'_ and _'Good luck Mets!'_ Yet more people milled about in the hallway, talking and nursing bottles and cups of beer

Things got pretty crowded as they made their way into one of the rooms. However, Dean's height and strength were to their advantage, and he cut a pretty clear path through the swarm of people. Cas recognised a guy called Fergus from one of his lectures standing right in Dean's way. Too late - Fergus went flying as Dean accidentally slammed into him.

"War is hell," muttered Dean to Cas, who started giggling uncontrollably. Neither of them noticed Fergus' glares.

Things cleared slightly, and they started to be able to see individual people rather than just one writhing mass. Suddenly a red-headed girl jumped up from her seat by a table and ran over to them.

"Hey! You guys made it!" Charlie exclaimed, "Come sit over here with us, me and Dorothy managed to keep the seats clear for you by aggressively making out over them and glaring at anyone who tried to sit down."

"Good technique," Dean said, and wiggled his eyebrows at Cas (who rolled his eyes).

The four of them sat at the table for a good half an hour, mainly bitching about everyone who came past. Dean didn't know who any of the people were, but it was fun anyway.

"Oh my god, you guys, listen to the song!"' Dean suddenly interjected, hushing Charlie gently.

"And I wrote to tell my family  
And I wrote to tell my friends  
I arrived home, it was lost again  
And this torture never ends

Cassy O'  
Cassy O'  
Please don't leave  
Cassy O'  
Cassy O'  
Please."

"Oh," said Cas, suddenly understanding, "Is this-?"

"Yes, this is Cassy O by George Ezra which is now officially the song I will start singing whenever you walk into the room."

"Please don't do that."

"Oh, I am so doing that- ooh, my phone's ringing."

The quiet sounds of 'Eye of the Tiger' came from Dean's pocket.

"It's my brother... I'll be back in a sec..." He squeezed through the crowds of people, and was gone.

"Don't worry, Cas, we'll take care of you now," Charlie grinned.

"Yep. Consider us your legal guardians!" Dorothy laughed.

"Okay, well if you're my legal guardians then I'm getting a drink."

"Make safe decisions!" Yelled Charlie, as Cas made his way over to the small table laden with alcohol.

Ideally he'd like a lemonade, but he didn't think he'd find one here, somehow. He considered going back to his dorm (there were a few cans of Coke in the mini fridge) but then decided he couldn't be bothered. Oh well - this was a party, after all. He might as well push the boat out, for one night. Cas picked up a bottle of beer.

He turned around, and was about to make his way back to Charlie and Dorothy when suddenly a figure blocked his path.

It was funny. Cas had almost forgotten that this was Metatron's party. Maybe it was seeing his friends, maybe it was the feeling of Dean being right next to him, maybe it was the warm, friendly atmosphere at their little table. But somehow, all of the worry about running into. Metatron had left him.

Until it suddenly returned, with triple the force.

Because guess who was staring down at him?

"Hey, Asstiel," Metatron nodded at him. He was swaying a little already - Cas wondered whether the beer Metatron was clutching tightly was his first or his tenth.

"Hi Metatron," Cas gritted his teeth, and made to move round him. But Metatron's stupid bulk blocked his path.

"Wait, you don't drink right? So why do you have a beer?"

Cas looked down at the beer in his hand. Meta-asswipe was too thick to understand a simple 'it was this or pure vodka' excuse.

"It's for Dean."

"Oh so you brought him then?"

"... I wanted to."

Metatron nodded, and took a sip of his own beer and belched. He didn't once take his eyes off Cas.

Cas felt trapped, like a deer in headlights. Yeah, Metatron was thick and irritating and, some might even say, harmless. But the way he looked at Cas like he was a piece of meat was terrifying. Cas once again made to leave, but this time Metatron threw out an arm to stop him.

"So, Asstiel, you gonna miss me?"

"I don't really know... I mean, we're not really close..."

"Aren't we?"

"Uhm, no. We're not exactly friends."

Metatron hiccuped and nodded again.

"Not exactly friends. I can live with that."

Suddenly, Metatron got alarmingly close alarmingly quickly. To a casual observer, it must have almost looked like the big brute collapsed unconscious and crushed Cas. But unfortunately, that wasn't what happened. Cas felt their mouths smash together with a sickening jolt.

Metatron tasted like sour alcohol and dust. He tasted like one hundred words for regret, but not a single one for sorry. Cas was used to the soft, caring embrace of Dean's warm lips, and this scratchy, disgusting attack sickened him in comparison.

Cas heard cheers and wolf-whistles from around them, and struggled to break away. Metatron had him in an iron-tight grip around his waist, but Cas struggled and kicked out blindly until eventually he was released. Then, for good measure, he punched Metatron square in the face.

"Don't ever touch me again, you stupid fucking pervert," Cas spat out the words like they were a burning poison in his mouth. He watched them hit Metatron with full force, before he turned and fled.

Cas pushed through the loud hoards of people. Shouts and words followed him, but whether they were from Metatron and his ilk or just disgruntled dancers, he didn't know. Nor did he care.

He just wanted to get out.

Out, out, out.

He wanted to find Dean.

He needed to find Dean.

 

Dean wasn't in the hallway outside the room, wasn't waiting by Cas' room, wasn't in the quiet stairwell a few floors down.

Cas barely noticed when tears started streaming down his face. Panic worked it's way into his brain like a disease, and his breathing became fast and shallow. Had Dean gone? Had he heard what happened, and left? Did he hate Cas?

Cas tripped, running down the dark staircase. He bruised his knee and felt his ankle twist. He made it to the bottom of the stairs, and sat.

Thoughts circled his head. They were crows pecking at his sanity. What if? What if? What if? Cas was sick of what if's and tired of doubts. But he also dreaded the answers to the questions the crows were asking.

Then the door of to the side opened, and an indistinguishable figure walked into the stairwell.

"Hello?" Cas cried, his voice cracking. He knew that if it was Metatron, or one of his friends, then he was screwed. But he was tired and in too much pain everywhere to care.

"Cas?"

Dean. Dean. Dean. Thank God. It was Dean.

He didn't sound angry, or upset, or like he hated Cas.

He sounded normal, but nothing was the same.

"Dean?" Cas said, in hope and relief.

"What are you doing, sitting down here in the dark? Where are Charlie and Dorothy? Anyway, I just got off the phone with Sam. God, that boy likes to talk. He only rang to see if I wanted them to save me some dinner, but-"

Dean's eyes adjusted a little to the dingy lighting. He saw the tears on Cas' face, heard Cas' shallow sobs.

"Cas? What happened? Are you okay?"

"I... I... No. I'm sorry Dean... I'm so sorry..."

"What are you apologising for? Cas, what happened?"

Dean sat down on the step next to Cas. He wrapped an arm gently round his shoulder, and pulled him close. Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder, and felt his rapid heart beat begin to slow. He began to draw strength from the warmth of the arm holding him.

"Metatron... Metatron happened."

"Fuck," Dean swore softly, "Cas, whatever happened... It's his fault - his problem, okay? You don't ever have to see him again, I'll make sure of it."

"He... He kissed me," Cas muttered miserably. Dean would hate him for sure, but he deserved to know, "In front of everyone. He wouldn't let me go for ages."

"Shit, Cas. How did you get away? Did he hurt you?"

Cas wasn't really sure why Dean was bothering with little stuff like that rather than shouting at him straight away, but he went with it.

"I... Punched him. Hard. My hand still hurts from it. I think I swore at him too. Then I ran... I'm sorry, Dean."

Cas struggled slightly, made to stand up. Dean felt this, and gently started stroking his hair.

"What are you sorry for? You, Castiel Novak, have absolutely no reason to be sorry."

"But-"

"No buts. What happened entirely that stupid dick's fault. If anything, I'm proud of you."

"...Proud?"

"Yeah. One minute you're shouting at random homophobes, the next you're punching the shit out of the guy who's made your life a living hell for God knows how long... Yeah, I'm definitely proud of you, Cassy."

"So you don't... Hate me?"

Dean laughed gently.

"Cassy, what you need to remember is that it's pretty safe to say nothing you can ever do will make me hate you."

"Oh."

"'Oh' is right."

Dean magically produced a tissue from his pocket, and gave it to Cas. Cas took a few deep breaths, and started to feel like the crows circling his head were flying away.

"And just think: you don't ever have to see Metatron again."

"I like that."

"Me too."

They lapsed into a quiet, relaxed silence. It was surprisingly comfortable, half-lying on some stairs cuddled up to your boyfriend.

"Dean?" Cas' low voice came like a light from darkness.

"Mm?"

"... I love you."

"I love you too, my Cassy O."

"Please don't start singing."

"Just this once, I won't."

"Thank you."

 

\- (12:30 am)

 

The quiet sound of 'Eye of the Tiger' woke Dean up from his doze. It took him a second to place where he was - lying on some stairs with the warm body of Castiel half on top of him. He wriggled carefully, trying not to wake Cas up as he located his phone.

"Hello?" He croaked quietly.

"Dean?" Charlie sounded soft and worried down the line. The fuzzy sounds of distant music echoed behind her voice.

"Hey Charlie. How're things?"

"Is Cas with you?" She asked quickly, cutting right to the chase.

"Yeah, he's with me," Dean looked fondly at the sleeping form of his boyfriend on his lap.

"Is he okay? Are you guys okay? Everyone's talking about what happened. Dean, it wasn't his fault, Metatron-"

"Charlie, calm down. Of course I don't blame Cas. Of course I know that it was all Metatron's fault (and trust me, if I ever get the chance, I will kill him). But me and Cas are fine, don't worry."

"Where are you guys, anyway?"

"Uhm... In some dark stairwell. I don't really know which one."

"Ooooh!" Dean heard Charlie's and Dorothy's giggles, and immediately cringed.

"Not like that! Cas is sleeping. And so was I before you rang, actually."

"Sleeping? On some stairs?"

"It's been a long day. I have got pins and needles in multiple limbs, though..."

"Well, I'll let you get back to... Ahem, sleeping with Cas."

"Thanks Charlie."

"No problemo, Dean. Peace out."

The call disconnected, and Dean put his phone back into his pocket. He looked down at Cas again, and smiled gently.

They didn't leave the stairwell for some hours.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... This was the last chapter. I hope you enjoyed this fic, because I enjoyed writing it!
> 
> (Let me know in the comments if you want to know anything about what happened after or anything like that)


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